


A Point Without Width

by thornfield_girl



Category: Justified
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Make Them Do It, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornfield_girl/pseuds/thornfield_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan and Boyd discover that there are realities beyond this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Point Without Width

Boyd’s riding with Raylan because Raylan does not trust him, at all, anymore. 

All he has to do is come up to Lexington and answer some questions about someone who used to work for his daddy. Boyd had said he'd do it, he had no loyalty to that asshole, who had screwed the Crowders out of a fair amount of money at one time. But Raylan insists on dragging him up there himself, because, as he put it, he's clear out of benefit of the doubt for Boyd. 

 

Raylan is gripping the steering wheel tight, and Boyd is looking out the passenger side window. He tried to talk to Raylan at the beginning of the drive, but that was fruitless. Now he’s silent, inside his own mind. Boyd understands, and he knows he bears a great deal of the responsibility for this, but he thinks Raylan could maybe meet him, not quite halfway, but maybe he could give a little. 

Paradoxically, Boyd kind of loves that he won’t. He loves the unyielding nature of Raylan Givens, and always has. 

The car is slowing, and Raylan is pumping the gas pedal. “What the hell? I just filled the fucking tank before I drove to Harlan.” The car is not responding at all, and Raylan steers over to the shoulder as the car drifts to a stop. He huffs out a hard breath and pounds the steering wheel. He pulls out his cell phone to call for roadside assistance, but he can’t get a signal at all. There are no bars, nothing. 

Raylan gets out and opens the hood. Boyd gets out too, walks around and leans against the front of the car.

“Don’t see no obvious problems,” he says. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Raylan replies. “I think I’d be capable of seeing smoke comin’ out of the engine without your input, thanks.”

“There’s no need for any of that, Raylan. I’m only trying to...” Boyd trails off and starts looking all around. “Do you feel that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Someone... eyes on us. Don’t you feel it?” 

“Fuck you, Boyd,” he replied. “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s ridiculous."

Boyd is shaking his head, then walks carefully around the car, peering into the woods, which seem very close at this bend of the road.

"Raylan, I mean it. You don't feel that?"

"Well, who exactly do you think is watching us? I don't hear no banjos, so I guess your ass is safe. I'll keep a lookout for natives with poison darts, though. We gotta walk. There's no signal out here and I don't know what the hell is wrong with the car. Come on."

They walk for awhile in silence, and even though it's mid-morning and there's not a cloud in the sky, the light is very dim. It seems to get darker the longer they walk, though swaths of blue sky are still visible between the treetops. 

It feels like they walk for a very long time, but the road barely seems to change. Boyd is getting tired, which is also strange because he loves to walk. He wonders if he's coming down with something. 

He looks at Raylan, about to ask if he'd mind taking a break for a minute, and Raylan looks back at him at the same moment. 

Raylan looks the same as always, stupid hat, scowl and all, but for a moment, Boyd doesn't feel anything like his usual mix of amusement, annoyance and urge to rile him up. He feels an unprecedented sense of contentment, and he somehow _knows_ that he's walking with someone he trusts, someone he can rely on. Not only that, but someone he... 

"Boyd," Raylan says slowly, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

From the look on his face, Boyd has a feeling Raylan might know exactly why that is, but he doesn't exactly want to say it out loud, because it sounds crazy. It is crazy. 

The first images hit him like a ton of bricks, because it feels exactly like a memory. In fact, the first part of it is bis own memory, from when they were first digging coal together, robbing mines, it was called, the two of them jackhammering away at the insides of a spent mine, so they could scrape the very last of what the coal company placed value on from the inside of the mountain. 

The ceiling started to crumble and cave in over them, and they ran, pulling at each other, their breath hot in their lungs.

They reached the coal elevator, catching their breath and grinning at each other because they'd just cheated death, and that's when the real memory changes, becomes something entirely different, but somehow it feels no less real. 

Instead of immediately returning to the surface, as they had done, he knew they had, Raylan reached for him and crushed their lips together, groping at him through the thick protective coveralls. 

 

Boyd feels like he can't breathe right, because the memories are coming faster and faster now. He catches glimpses of them, but he can tell they are inside his mind now, fully formed. Him and Raylan in the woods, in the mine, in his truck, kissing, talking, touching, saying goodbye to each other. Saying hello again many years later, and... 

He's bent over, trying not to hyperventilate. When he feels he can, he looks back up at Raylan, who is leaning against a tree, staring at him with wide eyes.

"But... we didn't," he says faintly. "We never did any of that."

Boyd is just blinking at him, and all he can think is how _good_ the man looks, how appealing, and that's not necessarily an unusual thought for Boyd, but it's never felt this normal before. He's never felt like he could just say such a thing to Raylan, at least without making it a joke. 

He almost says it to him now, because it feels like something he would do. He wants to say, "You're lookin' awful pretty today, Raylan," which is a _ridiculous_ thing to say, except he _is_ , he looks so nice. He clamps down on it, doesn't speak, and neither does Raylan just then. He does, however, lick his lips while staring at Boyd's, so Boyd has to close his eyes. 

"Raylan," he says, when he feels able, "Is it the same for you? Do you feel like..."

"Like I got two of my own lives inside of me? Yeah. What the _fuck._ "

"And in the other one, we're-"

"Yeah." The expression on Raylan's face keeps changing. There's anger and confusion when he's looking away, but then he looks at Boyd and it softens, so he drags his eyes away with what looks like great effort. 

"Let's... maybe we should keep walking, dar- Raylan. Get away from this place." Shit. 

"Right. Good thinking." They walk only a few steps before Raylan stops short in front of him and whirls around. He looks crushed, utterly distressed, and he reaches out to touch Boyd on the shoulder like he needs to make sure he's there. 

It hits Boyd a moment later, and he knows why. That bullet must have hit an inch lower, because he's lying on the floor, looking up at Raylan, and there are tears standing in his eyes, and he's getting darker and far away. Raylan is watching him die. 

"I loved you in that one too, Boyd," he says in a broken whisper. 

"I know," Boyd answers, shaky and dizzy from all this new knowledge, these new realities. "But we're... still us, Raylan. These memories ain't ours, not... not really."

Raylan is nodding, and starts to turn around again, to start walking, but before he does, he quickly reaches out again, pats him on the shoulder. "Okay," he says. They walk on.

The next one comes with a feeling of fear, first, and the memory of pain, and then there are tents, and trees, and mountains. Boyd's skin is free of ink in this one, and he feels so clean. There's Raylan, and lots of people he's never met but who he knows all about now, and a _whole life_ that happened to him, somehow.

They've stopped again, and Raylan is looking at him in a way Boyd has never seen. It's a helpless look, it's obvious he doesn't want to be feeling whatever he's feeling. Boyd doesn't either, really, even though it feels pretty good, because they saved each other, found a different way to be, they grew up together, grew old.

Raylan says, "This is... not real," but it sounds more like a question than anything else. 

Boyd shakes his head vaguely, but it's hard to focus on his words with the things that are flowing into his brain. They're coming faster now, coming to him almost fully formed, these packages of memory, these lifetimes filled with all the pain and happiness of a full existence. He sees letters and postcards, feels the keen ache of slim hope in his belly. He sees a bed, and the sleeping form of a man next to him, sunlight in his hair in the morning. 

Boyd sits, his back against a tree, and closes his eyes again. He can't look at Raylan, his always-familiar face that suddenly now takes up so much room in his heart. So many lives lived with him, either in tandem or in opposition, but always linked. They are linked in this one too, he knows. 

He hears Raylan sit nearby, but he doesn't open his eyes yet. He's exhausted. The images haven't stopped, but they have slowed. Raylan, tied to a chair, badly hurt. He did something stupid, because he had so much love and so much guilt, and Boyd is angry with him, but he also loves him more fiercely than he could ever have imagined. There's nothing he wants more than Raylan's love and loyalty. Nothing. 

Boyd opens his eyes now, and Raylan is staring back at him. "I'm sorry..." Raylan says, and that makes no sense, but Boyd almost needs to hear it anyway. "I'm sorry he did that, Boyd. It... he... Jesus, what an asshole." 

"He's not you," Boyd says, unconvincingly.

"He is," Raylan answers. 

Boyd swallows. He feels so much that it's almost unbearable by now. His brain is shutting down, and all he can do is want what he knows he shouldn't want, because this isn't who they are. It's not... 

"Boyd, I can't take this. I don't..." Raylan has his head in his hands, and he's trembling a little, and Boyd can't stand to see him like that. He can't. 

"Raylan..."

"Don't say it again, Boyd. I _know._ But..."

Raylan is reaching out with one hand like he has no control over it, the other still covering his face. Boyd takes it and pulls, drawing him close, and only then does he feel something like relief. They aren't looking at each other, not with their eyes, which are squeezed shut, but inside his head the images don't stop. One life after another passes by, and it's always them. 

Raylan's mouth is on his, and it feels like the end and the beginning of everything. He can't think, he stops thinking, he doesn't need to because he knows everything now. Raylan has been his many times over, and he's been Raylan's, and the memories belong to them just as if they'd lived them. 

Raylan's hands are in his clothes, pulling them apart, running across his skin and making room for his lips and tongue. Occasionally he whispers something, something that's passing through and between them like there's a wire between their brains. Boyd whispers back the appropriate responses, and the barrier of their reality is almost gone now. 

Raylan has his hand on him now, and he's saying, "I am... we are... always, why didn't I know," and Boyd can feel it building up, he can feel the truth of it, and he kisses him. He didn't know either, but he can't imagine that now.

He pushes Raylan to the side and rolls over on him, he wants to take what he knows to be his, and he gets his hand inside Raylan's jeans. " _Raylan,_ " he says, and Raylan moans back something that ends with a soft hiss. Maybe it was " _yes_ ," but it doesn't matter. It's always yes, and Boyd knows that. 

Boyd moves down, takes him in, and now Raylan says, "Yes" in a way that leaves no room for interpretation. Boyd has never had a dick in his mouth before in his life, not in this life, but now he knows Raylan's body like his own. This is something he's done a thousand times over. 

Raylan is grasping at his hair, his hand tightening and loosening. He's saying Boyd's name in a hundred different ways, different places and times, all of them meaning something new, but really the same thing. 

Boyd can feel him tensing up, and he pulls it from him, takes it in, and it feels like a lightning bolt inside his brain. All of it is in him, Raylan's and his, he knows _everything_ now.

Raylan is pulling at him, yanking him up to take his mouth, and he's touching him again, and Boyd doesn't hold back, he can't, he cries out with it, and it feels like it goes on for hours and days and lifetimes. 

They're spent, but not satisfied, it seems. Raylan is still kissing him, slow now and deep, and he feels it starting all over, his body responding like he's nineteen again. There's no more talk of what's real and what's not, no thoughts of that either. 

There's no talk of anything at all, and he wraps his hand around Raylan, already hard and wanting, Raylan looks at him now with clear eyes. Boyd knows what he wants, wants what he wants too, and Raylan takes it. 

He fucks him like they've been doing it forever, and of course, they have, and the part of him that never has is still there, but is very small and far away. They're face to face, and both keep their eyes open now. The eyes Boyd is looking into are the same eyes as always, and he loves them like he always has, in this life and every other one.

Raylan has Boyd's hand, he's holding it to his lips and kissing his knuckles. Boyd slips his fingers inside his mouth and Raylan sucks on them as he starts to come, groaning around them and thrusting hard. Boyd doesn't need anything else now, this is enough. Raylan leans over to kiss him and the friction between them sends him over. 

"Goddamn," Raylan says softly after a moment. They're still wrapped up together, and Boyd is not about to move. Not now. He feels like not ever, but that's not possible. He knows. 

"I killed you," Boyd says, because he did, in one of them. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," Raylan replies, huffing a soft laugh. "But you also took me shopping for curtains."

"And you came to get me when I thought I had to leave you." 

All the lives are blending together, starting to fade a little. He wonders if the feelings will go if the memories do, and he pulls Raylan in a little closer. 

"You and Ava took me in," Raylan says. "You let me in, you... " He trails off, frowning a little. 

"Raylan," Boyd says, "They're already leaving. So I want to say this now, before it doesn't make sense to either of us anymore. I didn't just love you in the other ones, but this one too. It's different, it's not... we can't be together in this one, but you're still connected to me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Raylan nods, and he blinks hard a few times. His eyes are red. "We'll probably forget that too. And nothing will change."

"Maybe," Boyd says. "So tell me now, before that happens."

Raylan looks at him for a long moment and kisses him, softly but thoroughly. "Maybe you'll remember that, even if you don't remember what it means. You know now." 

"I knew everything, for a minute. This life too. I know you, Raylan Givens. And you know me."

They stay where they are for awhile, trading things they remember, until most of it drifts away. Most, but not all. Boyd still remembers a day at a lake, somewhere, sunlight glinting off the water, and Raylan gesturing at him to come in. He wants to hold onto it, because it's very beautiful, and fills him up with hope, even if he can't recall why, exactly.

They walk back to the car, which is somehow only about ten feet from where they were, despite the fact that it felt like they'd walked for hours. The engine starts smoothly, without any problems, and Raylan turns the car around to head back to Harlan. He tells Boyd to come in on his own, when he's ready. 

 

Boyd does come in, a few days later, and Raylan thinks he should feel surprised, but he doesn't. He's glad to see him, and that should surprise him too, but it doesn't. He thinks, as he often has, that he'll probably never get Boyd out of his life, and the thought makes him smile. And that's not weird at all. 

Boyd leaves the Marshal's office with that smile in his mind, and he thinks of sunlight shining on water. He doesn't know where that came from, but it's beautiful. He turns around to wave at Raylan, but he's already gone, and that's okay. He knows he'll be seeing him again before long.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by this article: http://io9.com/5967995/argentinians-traveling-route-5-warned-that-they-may-experience-time-anomalies posted as a prompt at http://nvrleaveharlan.livejournal.com/19896.html.


End file.
